Not In This Lifetime
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: "It's a cold day in March when the brown envelope arrives in the post..." It's been over twenty years without a word, until one day Ste Hay hears the news that Brendan Brady wants to see him. But why now?


**This is a repost of a one-shot I put out back in April, when our Stendan emotions were at their peak. After reading the recent spoilers for what's coming up with Ste and his mum, I was reminded that I'd written this as a 'sad but eventually happy-ish' ending for the Stendan story. Thought it would be relevant to share this again in case any new readers fancied a future-fic.**

**x **

Not In This Lifetime

_2035_

It's a cold day in March when the brown envelope arrives in the post. It's waiting for him when he gets home from the Deli – the Manchester branch of Carter & Hay which had been opened nearly twenty years before when he'd moved there to be with his kids.

He rushes through his front door to get out of the cold and almost steps on it before he spots it lying there on the mat. He doesn't bat an eyelid as he picks it up.

He takes his time opening the envelope, expecting it to be a bill or something even more boring. The only thoughts going through his head at this point are what to have for dinner, and whether he can be bothered to cook it himself after such a long day.

And then his eyes scan the words on the letter and he's almost certain his heart stops.

It's a visiting order.

Asking him to go and see a man he hasn't set eyes on in twenty-two years.

**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**

So it turns out that Cheryl was the one to give his address out.

"He just wants to talk to ye, babe," she tells him when he phones to have it out with her.

"But why _now_? _He_ was the one who refused to let me support him when he decided to get himself arrested, right. He can't just give it a few decades and then send _this_!" He is waving the letter around wildly as if she's there to see it.

"I know, but he did that for ye, Ste. He...he did it for both of us," she stammers over the last few words, and he knows then that she still feels the guilt over her brother's fate every single day.

"I know."

"If it helps, he's sent me one too. A visiting order."

Ste sighs. "You're his sister Chez. He's never shut you out of his life."

There is silence on the other end of the phone.

"Cheryl?"

"This'll be the first time I visit him too, love – it's dated the week before yours."

Ste can't believe it.

"What are you on about? The last time I asked you about him, you said..."

"I know," Cheryl cuts him off gently. "I know what I said, babe, but me and ye, we've not talked properly in ages, have we? When ye first asked me about Brendan, I couldn't bring myself to tell ye I had no idea how he was, because he wouldn't let _me_ see him either."

"I don't understand. Why?"

"For the same reason he wouldn't let _ye_ see him. He wanted me to live my life, made me promise not to try and visit. I've been writing to him all these years with no reply. The only thing that reassures me nothing bad has happened to him in there is the fact that I'm next of kin, and I've never had an emergency phone call."

He's struggling to follow all of this. Brendan had been alone, no visitors in all this time and he'd had no idea. But then, he supposed that had been the plan all along. And okay, so Cheryl's right, the two of them weren't as close anymore, but they'd always stayed in touch. He never guessed she would keep something like this from him.

"So then why now?" is all Ste asks now, this time referring to _her_ visiting order.

"Bren sent me a letter for the first time a few weeks ago, saying he needed to see both of us. That's when he asked if I knew your address. That's all I know."

By the time he hangs up the phone, he is more confused than ever.

Brendan had already forced Ste to move on a long time ago; so what the hell was this all about?

**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**

"Well _I_ reckon you should go, Dad," a heavily pregnant Leah informs her father the next day as they eat lunch in the house she shares with her husband.

Ste puts down his sandwich and sighs. He's been doing a lot of that since opening that letter.

"I wish I had your outlook on life, Leah, really I do," he tells her fondly. She'll make a great mother, he knows it already. "But it's just too..."

"Complicated, I know," she finishes for him.

"You see, the thing is, I know I'm your old man and this is embarrassing to admit, right, but Brendan..."

Leah sighs now, impatiently. "He broke your heart, I _know_ Dad!"

Ste looks at his daughter in surprise and she looks away briefly. "Sorry, it's the mood swings."

"No, its not that," he chuckles. "I just didn't know that you knew, that's all."

"I was six, Daddy," she puts her hand on his for a moment. "I still remember him, you know. I know how happy he made you. You couldn't smile properly for ages after he 'went away'."

Ste smiles at how she says the last two words – it was how he phrased Brendan's disappearance to her when she'd asked what happened all those years ago. Lucas had been too young to know the difference, but Leah had noticed everything.

And clearly he hadn't realised just how clued in she was.

"But now that you're older, and you know he's been locked away in prison for murder, don't you feel differently about Brendan? How come you're giving him the benefit of the doubt when I know for a fact that your mum would be horrified if I told her?"

Leah smiles as she thinks over the answer to her Dad's question. There's a lot to say and she isn't sure how to sum it all up. She decides to start with the most important point.

"Dad...I know about Auntie Cheryl," she tells him carefully, watching as he eyes her in confusion.

"What are you on about now?"

"Remember when you used to take me and Luc to stay with her and Uncle Nate in Ireland, when their kids were little? We were putting on a puppet show for the boys upstairs but I came down to get a drink. I heard you two talking about _that night_."

Ste's eyes widen as it dawns on him. It was the only time since it happened that he and Cheryl had discussed the shooting, and even then it was only because it was Brendan's birthday and she had got herself into a state.

Leah must have only been about sixteen. Had she understood the full story and kept it to herself all this time?

"What exactly did you hear?" He has to check, even though he already knows. And even though Leah is twenty-eight years old and more than old enough, he dreads having to discuss this with her.

"Well, I know that their dad used to abuse Brendan, and that he was going to hurt him again if Auntie Cheryl didn't do something. So she shot him and then Brendan took the blame so she could marry Uncle Nate and live a happy life. Did I miss anything out?"

Ste is shaking. He's never told anyone what happened; could barely bring himself to think about it for the first few years without _him_, for purely selfish reasons.

And now here's his own daughter, summing everything up so simply, so unfazed by the whole thing.

"How come you never said anything?" he asks now. "Did you tell your mum?"

Leah shakes her head. "I didn't think it was my place. If you'd wanted to tell her you would have, right?"

"Yeah," Ste nods in agreement, still in shock. "God, Leah, you were still only a kid," he puts a hand on her arm. "I can't believe you heard all that and coped with it all on your own!"

She shakes her head, dismisses his concern. "To be honest Dad, I knew quite early on where Brendan was, and I found that hard to accept before I knew the truth. I was angry that he'd abandoned you after all those times he'd said he loved us."

He feels himself getting choked up as his mind is transported to a time of baking bread and being 'a proper family'. "You remember that?"

Leah just smiles back at him. "But when I heard you talking to Auntie Cheryl, I realised I wasn't wrong about him – Daddy Brendan."

It makes Ste's heart ache to hear the old name, makes him long for the chance to go back and live the life Brendan had once promised him.

"He was just trying to look after her, wasn't he?" She continues. "And keeping you away was his way of looking after _you_."

Ste looks at his grown up daughter and wonders what else she knows. Does she know about the things Brendan had put him through before he finally got things right with them? Does she know about what he'd put her mother through back in the day, before anger management had changed his life?

He doesn't dare bring it up. However much a part of him still hates Brendan Brady for leaving him, there is an even bigger part of him that thrives on hearing Leah singing the man's praises.

He sits there and basks in it, and it makes his decision for him.

**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**

Cheryl won't tell him anything about her own visit with Brendan. Well, she isn't answering his calls; so that tells him as much, anyway.

So Ste is entering the prison without even the smallest idea of what to expect today. He barely bats an eyelid at being frisked, or at going through the lengthy process of other security checks. His mind is only on Brendan throughout it all.

By the time he goes through to the visiting hall, his legs feel like jelly. He hasn't had cause to feel this nervous in over twenty years.

It takes him another minute to brave raising his head high enough to actually see the faces of the men sitting behind the tables.

It takes him no time at all to spot the right man.

His hair has thinned, his face is pale and gaunt and not quite as full; but there's the same moustache. It's the same Brendan Brady.

He stops at the table towards the back and stands motionless, waiting to see who will speak first.

"Steven," the older man breathes out quietly, almost as if he can barely believe his eyes.

"Yeah. It's me," Ste replies, taking the seat opposite him.

Brendan stares back at him in silence, the seconds ticking by until Ste can no longer bear it.

"You look terrible," he says bluntly. Once upon a time he'd have been wary of insulting Brendan in such a way; or in another life he'd have worried about hurting the man's feelings. But not now. Not anymore.

A low chuckle is the response he gets. "Thanks. And I was just about to tell ye that ye were looking well."

Small talk like this had only ever been a game Brendan liked to play all those years ago. There's no way Ste can put up with it today.

"What do you want, Brendan? Why did you ask me to come here? It's been years – a whole bloody lifetime!"

The pause only lasts a beat before he gets a question fired right back at him.

"So why did ye come?"

_Because it's you!_ Ste feels like shouting. _You know full well that I always __go back to you in the end – especially when you ask me to._

"I spoke to Cheryl, when I got the visiting order. She said you needed to see us. So, being the mug that I am, here I am."

Brendan's face remains unmoving. He'd definitely seemed affected by Ste's presence when he'd arrived, but since then there's not even been a flicker of a smile.

What was the point of this visit if he wasn't even happy to see him?

"So go on then, why did you _need_ to see me? It obviously wasn't because you missed me," Ste states coldly, eyes fixed on the table rather than the man he still loved.

"Ye don't think I've missed ye," Brendan announces rather than questions it.

Ste stares back blankly. He can't afford to let emotions set in now.

"Ye don't think I've missed ye every second of every day since they dragged ye away from me in that hospital?"

"Don't." The memories are becoming too vivid now, and it's not what he wants in his head. It hurts too much.

"It's true, Steven."

_Then why did you leave me? _Except he knows why. It was for Cheryl and he's long since accepted it. That hasn't made it any less painful though.

"Did you send me that visiting order just so you could sit there and torture me?" There is only the smallest amount of vulnerability in Ste's voice, but it's enough to make Brendan close his eyes as if in physical pain. Either that, or he actually _is_ in pain.

"That was _never_ my intention, Steven."

"Then why are you doing this to me? It was bad enough the last time I saw you, right, so _why _Brendan? Tell me _why now_?"

The small talk is well and truly over. Whatever it is that's waiting to be said, it can't be put off any longer. Ste waits for an answer, growing very close to upping and leaving when another minute passes by.

And then he says it.

"I just had to see ye one last time."

Ste is suddenly so angry he could spit. "You _what_? All that talk about letting me live my life, and now you ask me here just to make yourself feel better!"

Brendan looks around them, shakes his head in the hope that the prison guards won't come and disturb them after Steven's outburst. Thankfully, no one does.

"It'll take a lot more to make _me_ better, Steven. I'm afraid even seeing ye won't do that."

The silence that follows is deafening. The penny has finally dropped, and all anger has deflated.

"No..." is all Ste can manage. That's his only statement. No – this can't be happening. Not Brendan Brady. There _can't_ be a world without him in it.

"Cancer of the liver," the older man informs him with a sad smile.

Ste grips hold of the table to steady himself, afraid he's going to fall out of his chair. No wonder Cheryl hadn't answered his calls or told him anything. She'd obviously been told not to.

"Are you...you're having treatment though, yeah? It can be sorted, can't it?"

Brendan closes his eyes and speaks softly. "It's too late. It'd already spread too far by the time they found it."

The air might as well have been sucked out of the room as far as Ste is concerned. He doesn't know which he feels most right now – devastated, stunned, angry?

An involuntary sob escapes him before he can make up his mind. Most of the other prisoners and their visitors all turn to look at him, but he is oblivious.

"Hey..." Brendan has to stop himself from reaching right over the table, or from moving to take the man into his arms. Instead he settles for an awkward pat on arm while he attempts to find some words of comfort.

There are none.

There _should_ be - Brendan knows that after all he's done to Steven, and to countless others, he fully deserves to die. It's his time. But saying any of this to the man sitting in front of him is simply not possible. Not when that man is breaking down over the very thought of his impending death.

He'd thought Cheryl's reaction had been too much to bear. But this? This is far worse to watch.

Had he not told Steven himself, though, Brendan would have faced a world of wrath as a consequence if they were ever to meet up in the next life; of that he is certain.

"It can't be true," Ste croaks out painfully. "There must be something they can do...you can't just give up!"

"There's nothing anyone can do, Steven."

And Brendan says it so calmly that the anger returns, and now Ste is fuming once again as he stands up abruptly. It comes as a surprise, however, when there is no shouting involved – just an evenly delivered speech fuelled by frustration.

"So you've given up," Ste announces. "And you just thought you'd invite me here to see you for the first time in over twenty years so you could tell me that. Because it's not like I haven't lost you once before, right? It's not like I mattered enough for you to see me when you were actually healthy, or anything. Well thanks for this, Brendan, really. Thanks a bloody lot, you selfish Irish bastard. Oh and while I'm dishing out home truths, you do know you could have avoided this...this _dying_ thing if you'd not drank so much booze?"

Brendan looks at him warily, not intending to argue because the man is right, on all accounts. He just needs to get him to listen for long enough so he can say his piece; it being the sole reason he'd sent the visiting order in the first place.

"Sit down, will ye?"

Ste shakes his head defiantly, but takes his seat again anyway.

"Ye _do_ matter to me, Steven, okay? Of course ye do."

"Yeah, right." Despite the words used, though, there is less doubt in his voice now.

Brendan sits there and stares, wondering what more he can do to convince him. And maybe it's the lack of intimate physical contact; maybe it's the illness, or maybe it's just the sight of Steven after all this time – but he finds himself doing something completely out of character.

He reaches out for the younger man's hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I mean it," he says as he lets go.

Ste's eyes fill with tears as he looks first to the hand Brendan just held in his, and then up to the man's still pale face.

"God, I hate you," he says shakily. "But I still love you."

Brendan smiles at him – a vibrant beam that briefly makes him appear much more well than he really is. "I love ye too. That's what I wanted to say, and I couldn't say it to ye over the phone or in a letter. I don't want to die with ye thinking ye weren't enough for me, because ye were _more_. Ye were everything, Steven. I couldn't let ye visit because I wanted ye to _live_."

There is a pause while each man silently considers the end result of this last statement.

"And ye did that, didn't ye?" Brendan looks content at the thought, and Ste wonders what is it is that's given him that impression. "Chez told me ye branched out with the Deli; and that ye got to be with ye kids again."

Ste wants to get up and shake him for being so blind, but through his irritation he remembers that this Brendan Brady is far more fragile than the one he was used to.

It's hard to focus on the fact that the man is supposed to be dying when he's being so _normal_.

Well, still as complicated ever; but then that _is_ normal for Brendan.

"Yeah, alright. I lived my life, just like you said to. That doesn't mean I've always been happy."

The look he gets in return says something like, _"Why the hell not?"_ and Ste rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

"You really thought I'd just get over you, didn't you? That I'd just _forget_ all about everything we came so close to having. Well then you've been fooling yourself all these years Brendan, because that never happened. Yes, I had the kids, I had Amy back, and even my friends and the Deli once I'd stopped being selfish and depressed. Life happened, but I wasn't always _there_. I've been there for all the best bits, like seeing Lucas graduate from uni and walking Leah down the aisle – but for everything else, I needed you."

And finally, it seems to dawn on Brendan. He may have been the one locked up all these years, but they've both been in the same kind of pain while living without each other.

"I'm sorry, Steven."

"Right." But there is no sarcasm this time. Ste's processing the apology, knows he can't hold this grudge for much longer. There's not enough time for that now.

"So, Chez told me Leah's having a baby?" The random turn their conversation takes leads Ste to wonder whether Cheryl has told Brendan his entire life story.

He nods anyway, can't help the proud Grandad grin that spreads over his face. If it weren't for his kids and their achievements over the years, he doubts he could ever have named any more happy moments in his life.

"Yeah, she's having a girl. I'm dead proud." And he is; but then it occurs to him that he's gloating over something Brendan's missed out on with his own children, and he hates himself for it.

Suddenly he's desperate to say something that will make Brendan's sacrifice matter.

"Leah knows what happened, Brendan."

The older man's eyes widen. "What does that mean?"

"She heard me talking to Cheryl once, years ago. She knows why you're really in here. She only told me the other day, you know. I had no idea."

Brendan looks at Steven in pure horror, but this lessens somewhat when he remembers that Leah now has a husband and a family of her own on the way. Clearly she is happy, and it makes his heart swell to know this. He thought a lot of that little girl during their time as a family.

"Always knew that one was clever. Can't say I ever wanted any of the kids to know the truth, though. And she never said anything to ye or Amy?"

"No, never. She gets it – always did, as it turns out. Maybe even more than I ever did," Ste still can't get his head around that.

The prison guards call time on the visit before Brendan can respond, and now Ste is panicking at the thought of being separated from him again.

"No! I can't leave you again, not like this." It feels like they've spent too much time talking about the little things. They've wasted too much time dwelling, and not even on the fact that one of them is dying.

It doesn't feel real.

"Ye can. Ye _can_ leave me. I left ye, didn't I? I asked ye to come here because I'm selfish, Steven. I need ye to go now and never look back. No coming to see me when I'm on my last legs, okay?"

Both men stand up, and Ste knows there's no point arguing with him on this. He learnt that over two decades ago when he was denied any chance to be here.

He moves forward and puts his arms around Brendan, savouring the moment when he feels the love of his life hugging him back.

He considers risking a kiss, but can already feel the guards' eyes on them for _this_, let alone a more public display of affection that would surely be banned.

"I love ye. Always have, always will," Brendan mumbles against his hair.

"Love you too. Forever."

And he doesn't know how he manages it; but Ste walks away without looking back, his eyes shining with tears.

**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**

_Thirty years later..._

Ste Hay is getting old; he knows that much. But he likes to think he still knows what's what. One minute he in a hospital bed, surrounded by Amy, Leah and Lucas, and his grandchildren.

And the next...

Well, that's the thing. He could swear he's been here before, in his younger days.

He's standing on a very familiar bridge, in a spot he can recall having a very heated and emotional argument in.

Ste finds himself right in the middle of the Ha'penny Bridge, in Dublin.

Suddenly he glances down at his hands and realises that they are no longer old, battered and wrinkled. He seems to have gone back in time. Either that or...

"Took ye time, didn't ye Steven?" comes a man's distinctive Irish lilt. He looks up, and there's Brendan, walking casually towards him. He looks just like he did the last time they ended up on this bridge – leather jacket and all.

"Brendan?"

"The one and only."

"Oh my God. I died, didn't I?"

Brendan nods once, then takes the last step towards him. "In the next life, remember?"

Ste is too mesmerised to speak. He reaches out a hand, steadying himself against the railings.

"What's this?" his fingers have caught something and he turns to inspect it.

It's a love lock.

_BB & SH_

His breath catches in his throat. "Did you..."

"Had plenty of time to spare waiting for ye, didn't I? Had to amuse myself somehow." But Brendan's eyes are shining. It's not a joke to him. Not really.

Ste moves away from the railings, leans in closer.

"Yeah well, you're stuck with me for good now, aren't you?"

"Lucky me," Brendan winks. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he informs him, repeating words from another lifetime. "Come here."

Ste doesn't have to be asked twice.


End file.
